


Taking Paris

by chains_archivist



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Boys in Chains, Emotional Trauma, M/M, Non-consensual m/m sex, Prison, Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 09:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3645585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Mary Reilly</p>
<p>Paris makes a sacrifice, and must pay the price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Paris

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).

Tom sat quietly in his cell, bleeding. Two hours standard, and forty-two minutes, and they would come back. They would march another crewman past the cells where the bodies of other dead crewmates were rotting, and take him to the stone room with the white floor and the chains. And they would torture him until he screamed, until his throat was raw and bloody. And they would continue until he died. Then they would dump the body back in the cell, and let the captives from Voyager sleep until the next morning. 

For some reason, Tom was at the bottom of their list. The Kasirians avoided looking at him.  They were gentler with him. His captors seemed somewhat awed by Tom. Interested, even. 

"Story of my life," laughed Tom lightly to himself. His sanity was fighting a losing battle. He continued drawing the sliver of wood he had pulled out of his water cup over his skin. The blood trickled down his arm in slow rivulets. He was getting weaker. 

One of their captors walked by the cells to look in on the captives. He opened the door, and walked in. Everyone in the room backed away except Tom, still intent on his self-mutilation. The Kasirian knelt down and pulled away the splinter. Tom frowned and tried to take it back. He didn't know why, but he really wanted to see his bones right now. The Kasirian sighed, and picked him up easily. 

"Where are you taking him?" demanded Ket, one of the other unlucky people from Voyager, from Engineering. 

The Kasirian didn't answer and walked out. Some small part of Tom's mind was cataloguing his captor: The Kasirians were a very humanoid race. They had the most basic bipedal construction, averaging six to seven feet tall. All the Kasirians that Tom or any of the others had seen were male, and they all looked very alike, as if they had the same parents. Dark blue hair, solid black eyes, alabaster skin, all built like soldiers. Not as chunky as Jem Ha'Dar or Herojjians, but still very solid. 

Tom was laid down on a soft table. All he felt was a sharp pinprick in his arm, and the next thing he knew he was back in his cell. His arm didn't hurt, and he felt somewhat fuzzy. Someone was leaning over him, eyes dark with hate. It was Ket. 

"They healed you? What'd you do, Paris? Turn a trick while we weren't watching?" 

Tom struggled to sit up, but someone shoved him down again. One of the others. Tom tried to wriggle away, so that he could stand, but someone grabbed him and pinned him. "No! I didn't do anything -" he tried to say, but Ket punched him. And then the others joined in, delivering the kind of bruising punishment that Tom had thought he'd never have to take from civilized people again. 

"We're dying here, and you go off for a cheap fuck? They took Sarah today, they're killing her, you bastard!" 

Tom could hear her screaming in the background, over the sounds of his own pummeling. He was trying to curl up into a little ball, but they were holding him down. He didn't want to scream, but finally the sound broke out of him, taking what little of his sanity was left with it. 

He heard a sickening crack, and realized that someone had just pulled off one of his tormentors and thrown them against the wall. They had connected head first. Everyone else scattered in terror, leaving Tom to sit up groggily and appraise his rescuer. 

This Kasirian was dressed differently from the others. Somehow, the social cues from the first contact briefing came back to Tom. This one was a prince. Probably the man who owned this compound, and therefore everything inside it - including the prisoners from Voyager - were his property. He tilted Tom's head up, looking carefully at Tom's eyes, of all things. 

It was the touch that did it. He was so careful not to hurt Tom, and Tom knew that it didn't matter if he got hurt. He was just property, after all. Tom started to cry, big silent tears that rolled down his fine, narrow face and fell onto the prince's hand. 

The Kasirian picked Tom up and carried him out into the hallway. Sarah was still screaming. "Kill the rest," ordered the prince calmly. Tom whimpered in protest, looking up at the man who was holding him. The prince set Tom down and regarded him warily. "Do you wish me not to have them destroyed?" Tom nodded. The prince frowned. "You will not speak to me?" he said softly. 

"I'm sorry," pleaded Tom. Somehow, he found himself using his softest, sweetest voice. "Please, don't kill them. Just - leave them alone." 

The prince looked like he was fighting down a smile. "As you will." 

Tom smiled nervously, and was suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands. "Thank you," he said politely. He pulled himself away from the larger man until he felt the wall at his back. 

The prince was staring at his eyes again. "You have a concubine's eyes." 

"What?" said Tom, startled almost into lucidity. Tom remembered being told that color was a major status identifier for Kasirians. 

"Red is for princes. White is for queens. Greens are for soldiers. Blue..." his voice trailed off, with a soft sigh. "And you have a voice to match." The prince leaned in a little closer, and inhaled deeply. "And the way you smell..." 

Tom was terrified by the man's physical presence. The Kasirian towered over him, and could easily pick Tom up. And something about Tom obviously turned him on. Tom started shaking and couldn't stop. The Kasirian reached out, running a hand lightly along Tom's side. Tom found himself whispering quietly under his breath, determined not to scream. 

The prince pulled away abruptly, and moved across the hallway from Tom. Tom bit his lower lip, and tried to stop shaking. The prince looked over Tom's tattered and bloody uniform. "What are those?" he asked, indicating the pips on Tom's collar. 

"S-symbols of my rank. I'm a lieutenant, onboard the Federation Starship Voyager, NCC-74656." 

"No," said the prince gently. "You're not." He held out his hand. 

Tom understood immediately. Shaking, he pulled off his pips and his communicator and dropped them into the prince's hand. The prince closed his fingers over the symbols of Tom's past, crushing them. 

"What are you called?" 

"Thomas Eugene Paris," answered Tom quickly. The words seemed to trip over each other trying to get out of his mouth. 

"Thomas," repeated the prince. "How very lovely. It suits you." He raked his eyes over Tom again. "Unlike that uniform. Take it off," he commanded. 

_Don't fight._

Tom stripped out of his uniform, only barely conscious of the fact that the door to the cell was still open. The others from Voyager watched as Tom pulled off his uniform without a word of protest. 

"Leave it," said the prince. Tom tossed it aside, and the prince pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around his new prize. "Come." 

A soldier closed the door to the cell, and Tom dimly registered the fact that Sarah had stopped screaming. 

_Be a good boy, Tommy._

Up. A room, with a garden outside. Decorated in varying shades of blue. It needs flowers, thought Tom. Tom sat down on the bed when the prince told him to, but kept his eyes on the garden outside. I'm going to have to fill the room with warmth and life, he thought, so no one will notice that I'm cold and dead. 

Tom shed the cloak the prince had covered him in, not caring what reaction his actions brought. The Kasirian sighed in appreciation, and joined Tom on the bed. His hands began roaming carefully over Tom's body, stroking his back gently, feeling the softness of his hair. 

When Tom made no protest, he went farther, leaning in to taste Tom's neck, gently rubbing Tom's nipples. Tom could hear him breathing, feel his arousal pressing against his thigh. One hand found its way between his legs. 

_Open up, Tommy._

Tom closed his eyes, and tried to think about something else so that his body could go on alone. Poetry. It had worked before. Tom started reciting in his head, praying he could keep it together long enough for the prince to finish. 

"'What win I, if I gain the thing I seek?/ A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy./ Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week?'" Unfamiliar with human anatomy, the Kasirian was undertaking a thorough exploration, learning Tom's curves, Tom's scent, Tom's taste. "'Or sells eternity to get a toy?'" His hands were curious and gentle, as was his mouth, touching and invading Tom everywhere. "'For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy?'" Tom spread his legs, trying to help. "'Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown,/ Would with the sceptre straight be broken down?'" 

Tom didn't realize he was speaking aloud until he felt the prince stop moving. Suddenly the prince rolled off him and walked away. Tom realized that the prince had been listening as well. Nice going, Tommy, he chided himself. Now what are you going to do? 

The prince had walked into a small room, probably a bathroom or a closet, Tom guessed. He was taking short, sharp breaths; the kind men take when trying to regain self-control. Tom sat up slowly, taking stock of his situation. The prince hadn't come yet; that wasn't the way this was supposed to work. 

Tom walked over to the room where the prince was, and found him leaning against the wall, staring at the ceiling. His erection was pointing stiffly ahead of him, like a guidepost. Tom bit his lip. It was pretty big, almost Cardassian in size. Well, then, he reasoned with himself, that would make it about the same size as about one-third of the cocks you've ever fucked or sucked. Get going. 

The prince started when he noticed Tom enter the room. He looked like he was about to speak, but Tom stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. Stunned into silence, he could do no more than stare as Tom slid down his body and began stroking his erection with a soft velvety tongue. He hissed, and tightened his hands into fists at his sides, determined not to force the beauty kneeling before him to do anything he didn't want to. 

That didn't leave much. 

_Just relax. That will make it easier._

Tom started by lightly kissing the sac that hung below the proudly jutting cock, measuring it with his lips. He slid his tongue over it, listening carefully to the prince's reaction. The prince was groaning eagerly with surprise and arousal. Tom worked his way up to the base of his cock, getting it slick and wet before he moved to the tip. Tom wrapped one hand around the base, aligning his mouth with the seeping tip, and rested the other hand on the prince's tightly muscled ass, as a control. Was that a whimper? Tom wondered, and then the prince's hips took over, slamming into Tom's mouth, forcing him to focus all his energy on keeping his throat relaxed, his tongue busy. Tom looked up and met the prince's eyes. The prince screamed, and Tom felt six strong pulses on his tongue as the alien sperm filled his mouth. Tom pulled back a little so that he could swallow as much of it as he could. 

Shuddering, the prince sank to the floor. Tom wiped his mouth and stared curiously. A sinking suspicion that the prince had never done this before overcame him. The prince opened his dark eyes, and stared at Tom with such wonder and awe that Tom knew it to be true. Shit. 

_If you play your cards right...._

"You shouldn't sleep on the floor," said Tom, and helped the prince to his feet. He led the Kasirian back to the bed. 

"That was...wonderful..." said the prince dreamily. He pulled Tom close. Tom let himself be held, but managed to twist away so that the prince's kisses landed anywhere but on his lips. 

_Don't ask!_

"What's your name?" Tom heard himself asking. 

"Dacian," whispered the Kasirian as he fell asleep. "Prince Dacian Tekkeain." 

************************** 

"Can I ask you something?" said Tom shyly. 

Dacian looked up blearily from his pillow. Tom was leaning over him, courtesan-blue eyes wide, lips still bruised from Dacian's fierce kisses. "Certainly," Dacian whispered. His cock stirred with anticipation. Tom's requests were always followed with a very physical display of sincere appreciation. "Anything." 

Tom chewed on his lower lip for a second, knowing that the resultant half-pout would get Dacian's complete attention. "Will you do something for me?" 

"What?" Dacian growled lightly. It didn't really matter, his lust for Tom's sweet mouth and body would override any sense he had left. His cock was half-hard, and eager for more of Tom's skilled attentions. 

Tom leaned in a little closer, and gently stroked a hand across the prince's muscled chest. "Are all the others from Voyager still in prison here?" 

Dacian tensed. He didn't like it when Tom mentioned his former life. "Yes. Why?" 

"Send them home. Please?" 

Dacian sat up in shock, pulling away from Tom's body. "What?" 

Tom wisely kept his hands to himself. "You don't need them for anything. What if Voyager comes back for them? There'll be fighting, and people will die, all for nothing. Just let them go." Here, Tom artfully raised his eyes to look pleadingly at the prince. 

"And you will stay?" 

"Voyager will come back for fourteen missing crewman. They won't come back for one." 

_You hope._

The Kasirian couldn't believe it. "Do you want to stay?" 

Tom leaned over, to kiss Dacian on the cheek. "I have nothing to go back for." 

_Please believe me._

Dacian pulled Tom closer, licking his lips, drinking in the smell of his sex drenched Tom Paris. He slid a hand down between Tom's legs, finding that soft spot, bruised and wet from their earlier lovemaking, and slid two fingers into Tom. "Say it." 

Tom gasped at the first entry, glad again that there was a doctor right next door. He was going to need it after this. "I want to stay with you, my prince. Please let me," he added. 

Dacian started finger-fucking him, feasting on the sexy sounds that Tom made. Tom threw his arms around the Kasirian for balance, burying his face in his captor's shoulder, and let himself be taken. Dacian's fingers stroked his prostate, raw from the abuse he had already taken today, and Tom screamed. 

"Fuck me," Tom begged. And get it over with, he added silently, but he knew his body only betrayed eager lust and never his real thoughts. "Dacian, I need you." The prince couldn't resist hearing his own name on Tom's lips, and threw Tom facedown on the bed, pulling his hand away and replacing it with his cock. 

_This is what you get for wanting to take it slowly with Chakotay._

Tom bucked back, taking all of it on the first thrust. He heard the prince gasp, and Tom tightened his ass muscles. Fast and hard, that was the easiest way to get the prince off - and off Tom. Tom moaned, and started sliding back and forth. Tom wriggled, and rode the huge cock in him as hard as he could, gasping in almost feigned pleasure the entire time. The prince's hands gripped Tom's waist tightly as he trembled underneath Tom's sensual assault. Soon Tom heard the hiss that signaled the prince was coming, and felt the rod inside him spew thick fluid deep into his bowels. 

"Oh, Thomas, what you do to me," groaned the prince. "I love you." His cock slipped slowly and reluctantly out of Tom. He kissed Tom's shoulder lightly. He could smell the blood leaking from Tom, where the Kasirian's great size had ripped the smaller human apart. "What I do to you, how can you stand it? Shall I call the healers, little one?" 

Tom stretched, and rolled to snuggle up to the prince. "Not yet," he whispered. "Stay with me for a little while." Tom closed his eyes and let himself be cuddled. 

"Doesn't it hurt?" 

"It'll go away." It always does. 

_Does it hurt? Good. You deserve it._

Morning brought unwelcome visitors: Ket and Thorman, the other captured pilot. They were both still dirty and in desperate need of medical attention, unlike Tom, who had a medical unit at his beck and call. "Paris, we need to talk," demanded Ket. 

Tom carefully arranged the blue and yellow flowers around the green vines that he had brought in from the garden. "About what?" he asked curiously. What was there to talk about? They were free, they were going home, so that Voyager wouldn't come anywhere near Kasiar ever again. 

"Aren't you coming with us?" asked Thorman carefully. 

Tom looked down at himself. He was wearing a soft blue robe, fairly Grecian in style, with a lighter blue sash that matched his eyes. Almost all of his bruises had faded under the careful attention of the medics, but there was a fresh ring of violet evidencing the prince's passion on his right arm. "Do I look like I'm leaving?" 

"Paris, what are we supposed to say? What do we tell them?" begged Thorman. "We can't just leave you here. What you did - what you're doing - you don't have to go this far." 

"I'm not doing this for you!" Tom shrieked before he could stop himself. "I don't care what you tell them!" He took a deep, gasping breath, trying to calm himself. "Tell them the truth. Tell them I'm dead." Tom turned away, still trying to find his self-control, and decided that he needed some of the red flowers. That would help. Just as soon as his compulsion ran its course, he would go back to the garden and find some red flowers. "'From the besieged Ardea all in post,/ Borne by the trustless wings of false desire,/ Lust-breathed Tarquin leaves the Roman host.'" 

The two crewman could barely make out the words that Tom was whispering. "Paris?" ventured Ket. "Are you all right?" 

"Just get out," whispered Tom in an angry hiss. "/And to Collatium bears the lightless fire/ Which, in pale embers hid, lurks to aspire/ And girdle with embracing flames the waist/ Of Collatine's fair love, Lucrece the chaste.'" A single tear slipped out of his eye, and danced down his fair cheek. 

************************** 

"I'm sorry, Captain. I didn't know what to do." Janeway continued to stare at the surface of her desk, anywhere but at Thorman or the padd bearing all the details of their captivity and escape. "Captain?" 

"Dismissed." Her voice was like ice. It was the only way she could keep from crying in front of her crew. Every single one of the returned captives had confessed to attacking Paris in the prison. If that wasn't bad enough, Thorman's report confirmed the one detail in Ket's report that Janeway would rather they had lied about. 

Because now she had to tell them that Tom wasn't coming back. 

The door closed behind Thorman and Janeway laid her head down on her desk, gently touching the padd before her face.  "'From the besieged Ardea all in post...'" Janeway choked down the memory of watching a very battered young man, barely alive, and barely sane, sit in his cell in a barely civilized prison, clawing at his own skin and flawlessly reciting Shakespeare in a hollow voice. 

When she had asked him about it at the interview, he had smiled his beautiful smile, and claimed to have forgotten all about it. "'But she hath lost a dearer thing than life,'" Janeway had prompted. When she saw the look in his eyes, she had immediately changed the topic. But the image had haunted her, so badly that Janeway knew she would never return Tom Paris to any Federation prison. 

Instead, she had brought him to the Delta Quadrant, with a steady stream of encounters, each one more damaging and terrifying than the last. But now, it seemed, she had sent him to something even worse than the prison she had 'rescued' him from. 

She was the Captain. She could deal with losing members of her crew; she had to. But what were you supposed to do with sacrifices? Give them posthumous medals? "Dammit!" Janeway swore, and slammed her fist into the surface of the desk. "He's not dead. What am I supposed to do?" 

Janeway gathered up the reports from the returned captives, and walked out of her office. She was only going to ask one person one question, and then she would make a decision. 

Chakotay was meditating when the Captain entered his quarters. He heard her come in and stood to face her, arms behind him in an air of assumed calm. 

"I have the final reports from the Kasirian encounter. I thought you'd like to look over them with me before I make any recommendations." 

"Tom's dead, isn't he?" said Chakotay calmly. 

Janeway dropped her eyes. "No." 

There was silence for a moment. Chakotay hadn't been prepared for that. "Then why isn't he here?" he demanded, his voice breaking a little on the last word. 

Janeway tried to gather her thoughts. 

"Dammit, where is he?" yelled Chakotay. The air of false calm was gone, replaced by an angry desperation. He grabbed the padds she had offered earlier, and quickly scanned through the reports. "I don't understand," said Chakotay. "Kathryn, please." His voice was shaking. "This is all my fault," he growled. 

"Get in line, Chakotay. There's more than enough blame to go around." Janeway's voice whipped through his descent into self-pity. "But that's not what I came here to do. We have a problem; and I want to fix it, not the blame." When she was sure that she had Chakotay's complete attention, she continued. "Tom sacrificed himself to get the rest of the captives back to us. From our experience with the Kasirians, we know Voyager will be destroyed if we go back." Janeway shuddered, remembering her near-death at the hands of the treacherous aliens. "What do we do?" 

Chakotay didn't answer immediately; he was slowly processing the data from the gathered reports. "B'Elanna could do it," he murmured to himself. "A small team could get in and out, especially if they've stopped looking for our shuttles." 

"So you recommend a rescue attempt?" 

Chakotay held the padds to his chest, and closed his eyes, reaching inside himself for his objectivity. "I'll need a little more time to work out the exact details, but I think a rescue attempt would be feasible, despite the odds." 

Janeway nodded. She had seen his struggle. "I want a report by the end of the hour." 

Chakotay nodded. "Yes, Captain." 

************************** 

_You don't really think you're going to get out of this, do you?_

"Hell, yes, I do," Tom muttered under his breath. One of the soldiers glanced at him, before remembering where they were, and quickly looked away. Tom tested the bonds on his hands again; they were still too tight to do anything other than tear into his flesh even more. His struggles finally broke skin, and now warm blood was running down his hands. Tom snarled in frustration. He was getting nowhere. 

Tom judged himself to be about half-mad at the moment; and, considering that at the moment he was standing on a dais over a hellish pit in a temple in the uninhabited desert of an alien world about to be sacrificed, it was probably the best state to be in. 

Dacian hadn't been there when the clerics came for Tom. Apparently, Janeway had killed a god or something; and they needed a sacrifice to even out the balance. Since the rest of the captives from Voyager were gone, that only left Tom. That had snapped Tom out of his fear-induced mental coma - his brain had wittily pointed out that in the cosmic exercise book, apparently åTom Paris' = åsacrifice.' The guards hadn't understood why the prince's sweet little concubine had started laughing hysterically when the clerics took him away. 

While he was being pulled away, Tom had stopped to plant a quick kiss on the pillow he shared with Dacian, further rattling the already greatly disturbed guards. Tom felt mildly guilty about the way he had manipulated the prince; but the love of the prince had kept him alive, and set the other prisoners free, and most importantly, saved Voyager - and all those onboard. 

Tom heard a scuttling noise from the pit beneath him, and looked down involuntarily. He realized immediately that it was a mistake. He had never wanted to see that thing. Tom snapped his head away, struggling to keep his balance on the dais. For a second, he didn't understand how the sacrifice was supposed to occur. Then he heard a shift in the noises beneath him, and realized that it could simply climb the walls and come to him. So that was that. Tom would just stand here, and the - the thing would clamber up, snatch him in its vile pincers, devour him, and return to the catacombs, sated. 

Someone entered the temple chamber, interrupting the soft chanting of the priests. "Get him down from there," snarled Dacian. "Now!" 

"Your highness cannot do this! The gods have spoken, and this sacrifice is just! It must be done!" The cleric's outrage was deep. 

Tom tried to turn around, so he get a better view of what was happening. Maybe there was a way out of this. Then the dais shook violently, and Tom felt the narrow walkway beneath him give way. He slipped from the dais, with just enough time to see one of the clerics standing triumphantly at the end of the walkway, and Dacian's horrified face before he plummeted, passing the ascending monster as he fell. Tom closed his eyes as he saw the thing swivel its multifaceted red orbs to fix on him, and suppressed a scream. 

In his experience, Tom had learned that screaming never helps - and usually only makes things that much worse. 

With his arms tied behind his back, there was no way for Tom to control his fall. He could only try to relax, and hope that the fall wouldn't kill him. Then it occurred to Tom that if he survived the fall, he would still be eaten by the monstrous god of the Kasiar. While his mind was processing that logic error, he felt something strike his back and then the pain hit, knocking him out more effectively than any sleeping drug Tom had ever taken. 

************************** 

"It's working, Commander. I have a positive lock on Tom's life signs!" crowed B'Elanna. 

"Then get him out of there! What are you waiting for?" snapped Chakotay. He was struggling with the controls of the shuttle. Voyager was just out of the planet's sensor range, and the shuttle was hovering just under the third atmosphere layer. From here, major reconfiguration of the transporter and the sensor arrays had enabled them to locate Tom. Of course, the sensors and the transporter would be useless for anything else, but once they had Tom on board, it wouldn't matter. Not to Chakotay or B'Elanna, anyway. 

"Energizing," said B'Elanna. The familiar blue light filled the transport chamber, and the figure of Tom Paris appeared. "Yes," cried B'Elanna. "It worked!" 

The shuttle bucked under the ionized winds in this layer of the atmosphere. Chakotay laid in a course back to where Voyager was waiting. He still hadn't turned around. 

Ignorant of Chakotay's struggle, B'Elanna rushed forward to her friend. "He needs medical attention - he's really hurt." B'Elanna picked up a scanner before remembering that she had stripped all the scanners onboard of most of their vital components. "Crap. Chakotay! What do we do?" 

Chakotay finally turned. Tom was lying motionless on the floor of the transport chamber. His arms had been tied behind his back, and they both looked broken. He was breathing shallowly, and there was no unconscious eye movement. He probably had a concussion, and might even be in a coma. Chakotay moved forward slowly, and ran his hands lightly over Tom's body. Most of his ribs were broken, as was his left leg. Chakotay's vision blurred for a moment, and he realized that he was crying. "Get a blanket, B'Elanna. We need to keep him warm and comfortable." He laid a hand on Tom's beautiful soft face, and wasn't surprised to discover that the left side of Tom's face was shattered. 

"Two hours. We'll be back with Voyager in two hours, Chakotay." B'Elanna stroked Chakotay's back, trying to comfort him. "I'll see if I can find anything useful in the medkit. Stay with him. Talk to him. Tell him you love him," B'Elanna shot out as she disappeared into the back of the shuttle, searching for the medkit. 

"By all the gods and spirits, Tom, I do love you. Please don't die. I owe you my life, and my soul. Please let me repay you. Please." Chakotay's voice was barely a whisper. "Oh, Tom..." 

B'Elanna returned to find Chakotay kneeling beside Tom, crying freely. They covered him with the blanket, not wanting to move him without knowing his exact condition. 

"I have to pilot the shuttle," said Chakotay roughly. He walked back to the helm, still crying. He couldn't contact Voyager, not while they were still so close to Kasiar and the alien's superior firepower. 

"Voyager to Away Team. Are you there? Can you hear us?" 

B'Elanna and Chakotay both jumped. "It's only been half an hour!" Chakotay quickly wiped his face, and responded. "Away Team here. Where are you?" 

"We decided not to wait," said Janeway in her most cheerful voice. "Just keep your current course, and we'll come to you." 

"What about the Kasiar?" 

"Fuck the Kasiar," she answered. "We outran them last time, and we'll do it again if we have to. I see from our sensor readings that you succeeded in your mission. Nice work, you two." 

"Thanks, Captain. We don't have any sensors, so you'll have to guide us in." 

Janeway nodded. "Understood. See you in a few minutes." Her face disappeared from the monitor. 

Chakotay turned to B'Elanna. "Sometimes, she really scares me." 

B'Elanna shrugged. "But I'd still follow her to Hell and back." 

Chakotay nodded his agreement. 

************************** 

"You'll have to wait outside, Commander. Please, I'm almost done here. Just wait." 

For a moment, Tom thought he was dreaming. "Chakotay?" he whispered softly. If he were dreaming, then Dacian would wake him up with a hard slap, and Tom would have to beg his prince's forgiveness. 

"Tom!" Chakotay pushed past the Doctor and ran over to the biobed. 

Tom tried to sit up, but he couldn't move. Chakotay stood at the side of Tom's bed, and smiled down at him. Tom let himself drown for a moment in the dark eyes above him. "I missed you," said Tom simply. "I'm glad you're okay." 

Chakotay was stunned. "You were worried - about me? Tom, you almost died!" He squeezed Tom's hand, and remembered that Tom couldn't feel it. "Tom, I - I love you." 

Shock filled Tom's warm blue eyes. "I remember hearing you say that before. On the shuttle - how did I get to the shuttle? How did you -" Tom tried to sit up again. "Why can't I move?" 

"That's enough for now," snapped the Doctor. He administered a hypospray to Tom. "Say goodbye, Commander. You can see Tom when he gets out of surgery." 

Chakotay kissed Tom softly on the lips. "I'll be right here when you wake up. Everything's going to be fine." 

"I'm not dreaming," said Tom as he slid back into unconsciousness. "I'm not dreaming and Chakotay loves me." 

_Chakotay loves you._

Tom woke up to the Doctor's gentle coaxing. "Tom? Can you hear me?" 

"I'm here," Tom replied slowly. "I'm really here! Doc!" Tom sat up, happy and cheerful. "Hi, Doc!" 

"Hello, Tom." The Doctor's voice was grave. "I guess you're feeling better." 

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I guess I should be, but you're looking at me as if there's still something wrong. So, are you going to tell me, or are you going to make me guess?" 

The Doctor sighed. "I've been struggling with the best way to break this to you, and I've come to the informed conclusion that there simply isn't one. 

"I've managed to repair all of the structural damage; broken bones, bruises, internal injuries, and so forth. There's another problem, one which I haven't addressed because it isn't technically a problem..." The Doctor's voice trailed off at the perplexed look on Tom's face. "You're pregnant." 

"This is the moment where you go, åHa, gotcha! Funny joke, eh, Paris?'" Tom stared at the Doctor, who shook his head. "You're serious. How the hell can I be pregnant? I'm a male! I can't be pregnant! Pregnant with what?" 

The Doctor sighed. "Somehow, your body has been slightly reconfigured to enable you to bear a child. You're approximately two weeks pregnant, although that may be wrong, given that I am unable to accurately determine the fetus' rate of development. The child is healthy, and falls well within the parameters for a normal human child." 

Tom blinked. "Doc, Khan Noonian Singh was åwell within the parameters for a normal human child!'" Tears started to gather in Tom's eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." 

"It's all right, Tom, I can imagine that this would be somewhat disconcerting, given the circumstances. The child is probably male, and has your DNA as well as the DNA of an alien species - Kasiar, I assume." Tom nodded. "I waited to take any steps regarding your pregnancy until I could tell you about it." 

"Steps?" said Tom shakily. 

"Your physical condition is still quite poor. Even in the best of circumstances, I would advise against carrying this fetus to term. As it is, I can't imagine that you would want to." 

"I don't want to be responsible for taking a defenseless human life, either," Tom hissed. "It's not fair, and I don't want to have to live with that." 

"Tom!" The Doctor was genuinely surprised. 

Tom pulled his knees up to his chest. "I can't." 

The Doctor nodded. "I think I understand. Well, in that case, I'll inform the Captain, and recommend that your duties be reduced, in deference to your condition. I'll expect to see you here weekly, for checkups, and I'll be putting you on a strict dietary regimen. You've been malnourished, and you need to gain some more weight and keep up with your increased nutritional requirements. Of course, you'll be getting increased replicator rations to help out. If you're serious about this, Mr. Paris, I expect you to work with me. Or I will have to take measures to protect you without your consent." 

Tom looked up. His eyes were cold. "I know I should be pleased that someone thinks I'm more important than another human life, but you're really pissing me off, Doc. I'll be here." Tom slid off the biobed, preparing to leave, but found his resolve tested by his total lack of attire. "Where are my clothes?" 

"Just a moment, I'll get them." The Doctor left the operating room. Tom returned to bed, but didn't bother to pull his sheets over his naked body. He'd never been particularly modest. Tom took this opportunity to look himself over. All of his scars were gone, and so was the pain. He couldn't resist, he reached down and gently stroked his stomach. He didn't feel any different. "Two weeks?" he murmured to himself. "That was..." 

_When you sent the others home. You thanked Dacian, the way you always thanked him._

"And he got me pregnant," Tom said to himself. He shook his head slowly in disbelief. 

"Your clothes, Lieutenant Paris." The Doctor returned, and handed Tom his uniform, complete with pips and communicator. "And the Captain would like to talk to you when you're ready. She's waiting outside." 

Tom sighed. "All right." He got dressed, and walked out. 

Janeway smiled. "Welcome home, Tom." She gestured him to a seat next to her. 

"Thanks, Captain." Tom joined her on the sickbay couch. "It's good to be here." 

Janeway hugged him tightly. "Tom, you are one of the bravest people I know. I'm glad you're still here to inspire me." 

Tom blinked away a sudden rush of tears. "Thank you, Captain. I - I - I'm glad to be here again." 

Without letting go of him, Janeway continued asked, "So, how are you doing?" 

"Pretty good," said Tom. Pregnant, he thought to himself. "What happened? I mean, in the beginning. Why did the Kasirians attack?" 

"I killed one of their gods." 

Tom shuddered. "I've seen one of those things. How on earth did you kill one?" 

Janeway waved her hand. "It was only a little one, about six feet tall. I threw a rock at its head." She shrugged off the unpleasant memory. "It had escaped from the clerics, and wanted to eat Tuvok. Phasers weren't working, and it looked like a bug, so I stomped it. Imagine my surprise when it actually worked." She turned to Tom. "When did you see one?" 

"They were going to sacrifice me to one," said Tom casually. The horror of the experience had faded quickly. Tom had learned a long time ago not to hold certain memories too close- besides, he still had to save room for real horrors. "I fell into a very deep pit, and I guess you beamed me out just after I hit the floor." 

Janeway squeezed his shoulder. "Not quite perfect timing, but we'll work on it." She took a deep breath. "The Doctor tells me...you're pregnant?" Tom nodded. "You're okay with this? Really?" 

Tom smiled. "I don't think I have another option I could live with." He sighed. "It's not as bad as you think. I won't have to tell him his father was some maniac out of the dark." Tom closed his eyes. "He didn't mean to hurt me; he was just bigger than me." 

"And you were his property." 

Tom nodded. "But it could have been worse." 

_Much worse. At least, in his way, he loved you._

"I think I understand," said Janeway slowly. 

"I can do this, Captain. I'll be fine." 

She smiled encouragingly at him. "Well, if you need any help, I'm always here for you." 

"Thanks." 

Janeway stood. "The Doctor said you can go back to your quarters whenever you like. Your new status is in the computer, and when he's worked out an appointment schedule, he'll let you know." 

Tom smiled. "I can go home?" 

"Welcome home, Tom." 

Tom didn't realize how much had changed until he left Sickbay. Almost everyone stopped to say hello to him. Even Whiteman risked a quick smile. By the time Tom made it back to his quarters, he was starting to doubt reality again. 

Harry and B'Elanna were waiting for him outside his quarters. They pounced on him, enveloping him in a warm hug. "We, uh, wanted to spend quality time with you, but we got -" Harry paused, trying to find the right word. 

"Pre-empted," B'Elanna supplied. 

"Yeah," smiled Harry. "But, welcome home, Tom." Then, much to Tom's surprise, they both kissed him on the cheek and pulled away. 

"Just in case," grinned B'Elanna. Then she gestured him to his room. "Go on!" 

Tom walked into his room slowly. The table was set, with lit candles and a beautiful floral centerpiece. Soft music filled the room, slow guitar and a deep, almost feminine voice singing in a language Tom didn't understand. 

"I moved into your room a little while ago. I missed you, and it was the only place I felt comfortable," said Chakotay quietly. "I hope you don't mind." 

Without speaking, Tom moved closer to Chakotay. He reached out, to touch him, to confirm his reality. Chakotay pulled him close, and Tom hugged him fiercely. The tears that Tom had been fighting all day finally broke free, spilling slowly down his cheeks. 

Chakotay sighed in contentment. He tilted Tom's head up, so that their eyes could meet. "I missed you so much. I never thought I'd get a chance to tell you I love you, to ask for another chance. Tom - please - I need you so much...." 

Tom kissed him. All the times he'd hungered for Chakotay's arms came rushing back to him, all the times he'd given himself to Dacian dreaming that it was Chakotay who held him, all of it flooded through him and into the kiss he gave to Chakotay. "Make love to me," he moaned. "Please." 

"Gladly," replied Chakotay, and walked backwards with Tom to the bedroom. He lowered Tom gently to the bed, kissing him all the while. 

Tom arched into him, feeling the hard length of Chakotay's need press hungrily against him. Tom moaned desperately. His body was as hungry for Chakotay's touch as if he'd been completely isolated for the past two months. 

Chakotay slid his hands under Tom's body and lifted him, pressing him closer to his body as he lowered him onto the bed. He laid a ribbon of kisses along the side of Tom's face that had been so badly shattered earlier. At Tom's encouraging moan, Chakotay let his mouth lead him down, pulling away Tom's uniform as he went, laying kisses everywhere he could remember seeing a bruise or a scar. They were all gone now, but Chakotay's determination to erase the memories remained. He found a comfort in Tom's moans that he hadn't felt in years. 

"You like this, don't you?" Chakotay murmured as he nipped lightly at the insides of Tom's thigh. A passionate moan was his first answer, then the incredible sound of Tom Paris crying his name in passion as the second. Chakotay smiled, and continued his erotic journey over the landscape of Tom's body. He moved down Tom's legs, kissing, sucking, and occasionally simply tasting, until he got to Tom's feet, bare now, thanks to Chakotay's nimble hands. 

Here, Chakotay worshipped, kissing each one of Tom's toes, running his tongue along the ultra-sensitive arch, then returning to the long and graceful toes, to give them more definite attention, little nips and gentle caresses with his lips. Dimly, he could hear Tom begging for more, and Chakotay looked up to see Tom stroking himself. Chakotay worked his way back up Tom's legs, giving his mouth free rein over the beautiful body beneath him. He paused briefly at Tom's penis, kissing the swollen head lightly with his lips, thrilling at the wonderful cry that brought out, and then continued up to Tom's mouth. 

Tom kissed him, then tilted Chakotay's head to the side, and kissed Chakotay's neck while he pulled away his lover's uniform. "I want to feel you," he breathed against the soft skin of Chakotay's neck. "I want to be inside you." He felt Chakotay shudder wildly against him, and Chakotay pulled him close enough to feel the rampant erection his words had caused. 

"Yes," groaned Chakotay desperately. "Yes, Tom, please," he continued, rutting helplessly against Tom's body. Chakotay slid a hand under the pillow, and retrieved the lubricant he'd stashed there earlier. 

Tom took the small bottle from Chakotay's hands, and maneuvered himself over his lover. "I want to see you. I want to see myself in your eyes." Tom popped open the bottle with one hand, and drizzled a generous amount of the sweet-smelling oil between Chakotay's legs and his over his own throbbing cock. Before putting the bottle away, Tom applied some oil to his fingers. He tossed the bottle away, and gently stroked the hungry pucker beneath Chakotay's cock. Chakotay gasped, and Tom slid one finger gently inside him. Chakotay moaned in appreciation, so Tom added another, and started an easy rhythm of stroking his fingers in and out of his lover. "I've wanted this for so long..." Tom heard himself moan. Chakotay moved easily on Tom's fingers, showing his readiness. Tom added another, and teasingly flitted his fingers, searching for Chakotay's prostate. 

Chakotay thrust himself back onto Tom's questing hand in response to the sudden burst of pleasure. "Stop teasing! Fuck me, Tom, now!" 

Tom laughed. "Yes, Commander." He withdrew his fingers, taking care to brush against Chakotay's prostate again on his way out. Chakotay hissed, and clutched demandingly at Tom's body. "Easy," grinned Tom. "This'll just take a minute..." Tom leaned back, and eased just the head of his penis into Chakotay's body. At Chakotay's satisfied sigh, Tom thrust himself in all the way. 

"Yes!" screamed Chakotay to the sudden heat that filled him. He pulled Tom down to him, for a kiss, slipping his tongue into Tom's mouth, stroking with his tongue in time to Tom's powerful thrusts. 

Tom worked his hand between their bodies, stroking Chakotay's penis as fast as he could. As hungry as they were, Tom was amazed he'd held out this long. But now, the grasping heat of Chakotay's ass on his cock and the devilish tongue in his mouth were strangling his self control. Tom pounded into Chakotay as hard as he could, careless of whatever pain he might cause. Chakotay moaned encouragingly, twisting his hips into Tom's body. Low groans signaled the start of Chakotay's orgasm, and his body shuddered and his cock spewed all over Tom's skilled hands. 

Suddenly, Tom froze, and then his entire body shook with the force of his orgasm. He collapsed bonelessly on top of Chakotay. Chakotay took Tom in his arms, and rolled to one side, so that they were lying comfortably side by side on the bed. Tom's cock softened and slipped out of Chakotay, but Chakotay still held him close. 

They drifted to sleep for a few moments. Tom was roused by Chakotay pulling a blanket over their damp bodies. Just before Tom fell asleep again, Chakotay spoke. 

"There's an old word, it's originally Creek, but it's common to all of the Five Nations now: hayha. It's used to describe a faithful husband, one that a wife can depend on to support her, spiritually, emotionally, and materially. A husband that you could trust meant a lot, back when my people were nomads on the Great Plains." 

"We're nomads now," said Tom playfully. He pushed himself up on one elbow, to look down at his lover. Chakotay had his eyes closed, but his face was turned towards Tom. "Y'know, that sounded an awful lot like a marriage proposal, Chakotay." 

Chakotay smiled. "It was." 

Tom almost answered, then he snapped his mouth shut. "Excuse me for a second." He walked slowly to the bathroom, and shut the door behind him before he turned on the light. 

_Just say it, already._

Tom stared at his face in the mirror. His blue eyes - concubine's blue - reflected a calm that he simply didn't feel. "'The love I dedicate to your lordship is without end,'" he whispered. He reached down while he talked, and stroked his stomach again. A few tears fell on his hand. "'What I have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted yours. Were my worth greater, my duty would show greater...'" He swallowed down an attack of nausea at the memories of all his captivities. "I won't tell you your father was a bad man," Tom whispered fiercely. "He wasn't. He could have been worse. Mine was!" 

_Just because he loved you doesn't make it right._

"Tom?" Chakotay walked into the bathroom. "Are you all right?" 

"Just arguing with myself," said Tom weakly. He stretched out, taking Chakotay's hand. "Before you go on talking about commitment, I have to tell you something." Chakotay's face was an impassive mask. He's preparing himself for the worst, Tom thought. "I should have mentioned this before we slept together, but I - I needed to be with you more." Chakotay nodded, some confusion evident in his face. Tom smiled. He's confused now? "I'm pregnant." 

Chakotay sat down very quickly. He was quite pale, given his normally dark complexion. "What?" 

"I'm pregnant," Tom repeated, and shrugged. 

"How? Whose?" 

"The prince's, Prince Dacian Tekkeain. I don't know how, I mean, not the medical side. I can take a guess at the general mechanics, and there were always medics nearby. I assume they had something to do with it," said Tom quickly. He was a little nervous. 

Chakotay was stunned. "Why? Can't the Doctor do something about it?" Tom's eyes slid away. "Or, do you want to have this baby?" Chakotay asked quietly. 

"The baby didn't do anything to me. And the father treated me better than I had any right to deserve. I owe him my life, and Voyager's as well." Tom's voice shook as he spoke. "Dammit, I just want one person to understand!" 

"Tom," said Chakotay quickly, "do you think you're ready to raise a child? Do you want to?" 

Tom nodded. "I have to, because there's nothing else I can do." 

Chakotay nodded slowly. "I understand that, at least. And my offer still stands." 

"You really want to marry me?" 

"Yes." Chakotay's voice was firm and decisive. 

Tom smiled at him. " _Hayha_." 

**The End**   



End file.
